Broken Toy Soldier
by ZeebyHeartsYou-x
Summary: T for suicide attempt and a bit of cussing. Set in the weeks after the Final Battle. [DH SPOILERS] Percy contemplates life...and death. [SLASH] PercyOliver. [REVIEW]
1. Swan Dive

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Harry Potter, especially not Percy Weasley. They are JKR's. Spoilers from Deathly Hallows so don't read if you haven't read that. I might continue this if I get umm…some reviews. I dunno how many. Some would just be nice. :) Right then. Enjoy.**

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Red hair stands out on a dark night sky. No matter where you are, if you have red hair and its dark at night, it still stands out. Percy somewhat regretted this, as he stood on the edge of a tall block of flats. Having quit working for the Ministry, he was now working for the Order full time. He couldn't keep it on his mind for long, though. One person dominated his thoughts since that battle at Hogwarts.

Yes, Voldemort was dead. Everything was meant to be fine now, _right?_

Well, it wasn't. Foreign Death Eaters had to be tracked down and as a sort of punishment in the guise of a mission for betraying the Order, Percy was at this very moment in France. He'd already tracked down one, performed a Full Body Bind curse on him and Stunned him, before sending him back to Grimmauld Place on a Portkey (a baguette, no less). He had time to find the others. Which brought him up to now.

Fred. All the time, all he thought of was Fred. His brother had died from joking with Percy. Percy could have stopped it. _But no_. Percy _had_ to take revenge on the Minister. He neglected his brother. Just as he got his family back, he lost one of them…and now he was wasting time crying over him _when he didn't even have the right to._ He'd disowned them all, hadn't he? And yet they were taking him back, allowing him to grieve like the rest of it when he wasn't even worth their time. Percy laughed bitterly, thinking as the tears rolled freely down his pale freckled face.

**I'm worth no-one's time.**

Self-loathing was one of the things he'd learnt at the Ministry. Ministry personnel were disposable; if you ran out of one type of person you could just find another. Percy snorted. Look at the Minister. Replaced over and over again without a second thought from anyone. The same could be done to Percy; especially as he _knew_ he was worthless.

**They took me back with open arms.**

Dangling a foot over the edge, Percy took a deep breath. Fred was gone, George was in Germany, and everyone else was back at headquarters. _No-one_ would know he'd done it himself. They'd all _assume_ it was Death Eaters. Taking off his horn-rimmed glasses, fogged up from the heat radiating from his face, he dropped them onto the pavement below. It seemed an awful drop from here, even more so when he saw his glasses smash on the hard concrete. Looking up to the heavens and praying to God he wouldn't make _too much_ mess, Percy Weasley swan-dived.


	2. Would He?

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Harry Potter, especially not Percy Weasley. They are JKR's. There may be spoilers from Deathly Hallows so don't read if you haven't read that. I decided to continue due to the amazing response of you all. :) Slash pairing, eventually…probably. PercyOliver probably. Don't like, don't continue reading and leave chapter 1 as a oneshot in your mind. Oh, and there's one cuss word (the f-word). Right then. This chapter is dedicated to the kind 5 reviewers of my story's first chapter: darkgryphonmage, jrkgirlrox, Seed-Of-Flame, Silver Sailor Ganymede, and Lady Jaye1. Thank you so much, I hope this is good enough for you. Enjoy!**

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Percy could see the ground getting closer, and he knew that soon there would be the inevitable crunch and moment of blinding agony when he hit the unforgiving concrete. Gulping back the bile that rose in his throat at the thought, Percy passed out, before hitting the ground…and bouncing lightly.

It was as if he'd hit a mattress, or small trampoline, as his body bounced, head lolling, and yet did not gather a scratch. Percy moaned faintly in his unconsciousness, rolling onto his side and remaining still, but breathing. He could not hear the frantic footsteps that ended as the unknown male knelt at his side muttering, "What the _fuck?_"; nor the slight _woosh_ as the pieces of his glasses flew back together, now a flawless pair of spectacles once more.

The tall stranger put his ear close to Percy's face: he could both hear and feel breath on his exposed skin. Carefully rolling Percy into a more comfortable position he looked, with a stunned expression, at the huge building his friend had fallen from. He tried and failed to recover his composure, and so took to muttering under his breath in a distinctly unbelieving tone,

"Jeez, Percy…why would you do that? It's a big building, y'know, you've could've died if I wasn't there…"

**Was that what he wanted?**

Oliver gulped, forcing down the part of him that was screaming that Percy had _intended_ to fall, and instead choosing to listen to the part of him that insisted earnestly that Percy had either fallen accidentally or been pushed. However, the cynical voice in his head was back again, and he wanted to scream as he found himself doubting that this had been an accident.

**Yeah, that's right, keep trying to believe he wouldn't jump.**

Oliver shuddered. He would _not_ think about that now. Not even while Percy was lying still on the ground, unconscious before him.

Performing a quick weightless charm on Percy, Oliver Wood (Keeper of the Quidditch team Puddlemere United) gathered him in his arms carefully, placing Percy's trademark horn-rimmed glasses back on his thin, pale face. His body was strong and muscled from many years of Quidditch training, whereas _Percy_…Percy was small, petite and lithe, perfect for escaping captors and getting into small spaces, things Oliver could only do nowadays by force. And to think they were in the same year, the same age, and the same House. Oliver looked distraughtly down at his friend, the only other Gryffindor in his year, and sighed, seeing how truly fragile he seemed as Percy subconsciously moved his head to fit more comfortably in Oliver's arms.

The Scot couldn't help but think the weightless charm had been unnecessary.

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	3. Channel Tunnel

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Harry Potter, especially not Percy Weasley. They are JKR's. There may be spoilers from Deathly Hallows so don't read if you haven't read that. I decided to continue due to the amazing response of you all. :) Slash pairing, eventually…probably. PercyOliver. Don't like, don't continue reading and leave chapter 1 as a oneshot in your mind. There might be some cussing later on, though not in this chapter. Percy is very disapproving of swearing. Anyways, on with the show!**

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Travelling through France in a Muggle car, with Percy Weasley unconscious next to him. Oliver exhaled gustily. This was _not exactly_ how he had planned to spend his remaining days in Europe, having been rounding up Dark wizards in Spain. He had been expecting to be able to do some sightseeing, enjoy the fact that they were finally free of the Dark Lord, and his Muggle mother could come out of hiding. Glancing over at Percy, his eyes clouded over with concern for his friend. He had heard about Fred Weasley's tragic death, had mourned it himself (Fred had been a _terrific_ Beater after all), but he had never guessed how hard it had hit Percy. He couldn't help but know now.

**He jumped. He jumped and you know it.**

Oliver gripped the steering wheel with such determination his knuckles turned brilliant white, matching Percy's complexion and contrasting against his own tanned skin. Taking a left turn, Oliver followed signs directing them to the Channel Tunnel. They could leave the car; another Order member would pick it up when coming from England to France, and in turn perhaps take it to another country. Oliver was well aware of the number of Dark wizards in Belgium. After another half an hour of travelling, Oliver carefully parked the car in a slot in the parking area near to where they would catch the train. He sighed again. He'd done that a lot recently.

Looking outside, he noted that it was still very dark. It was no surprise, really; he had found Percy at around 11.27 pm. They had been travelling for roughly 3 and a half hours. Thus, it was still dark. He looked over at Percy and drew in a sharp breath when he found blue eyes staring into his brown ones. Percy's face had taken on the old expression Oliver was used to; the one that made whoever was there to witness it feel very small.

"_Care to tell me why I am in your car, Wood?"_

**If he had said that in a colder voice I'd be dead from frostbite.**

Oliver attempted to speak; however, his voice sounded rusty, as if it had not been used in years. He coughed lightly, and said awkwardly in his broad Scottish accent,

"Uh…ah, well…do you remember anything?"

Percy's blue eyes flashed as he replied curtly, "Oh yes, I remember plenty. However, that does not quite explain what the hell I am doing in your car."

Oliver's temper flared, "You're in my car because you're unfit to continue with your mission! You fell off a five-storey building, Percy, its obvious someone's after you! They pushed you off!"

A hollow laugh met his ears, "Who says I was pushed?"

Oliver swallowed, "You mean…you…" His next words died on his dry lips as Percy glared, saying simply, "Yes, I jumped. Why I jumped, however, is none of your business. Now. Care to explain where we're going and what you mean by 'unfit to continue with your mission'?"

"We're going back to Headquarters. What I mean by 'unfit to continue your mission' is that seeing as you jumped, you're in no suitable psychological condition to continue when its obvious something motivated you to try and kill yourself. Right now we're going to get on the soonest train through the Channel Tunnel and Side-Along Apparate back to Grimmauld Place. Oh, and there sure as hell isn't anything you can do about it," Oliver replied curtly, "Now get out of the car, and don't try anything funny, because I just so happen to have your wand."

Percy sighed. He was dealing with a six foot tall Quidditch Keeper composed mainly of solid muscle and a surprising amount of brains. Taking a short period of time to access his choices, Percy came to a simple conclusion: he was five foot nine, scrawny but smart, however was wandless, so therefore there was no chance in hell he could fight him, with or without magic. He nodded sourly, "Very well. I presume you have informed the other members of the Order of the whole situation?"

"You're damn right I have. I presume you know very little to no French?"

"Correct. You have to get the tickets and such. _And_ I want a coffee."

Oliver glared at the last request, but found himself yawning, and nodded drowsily, "Yeah…I guess I could do with a cuppa. Come on."

Oliver pushed open the car door and stepped out, waiting for Percy before shutting the door behind them and locking the car. He walked briskly towards the station, and upon entering, looked for the nearest ticket booth. When he found one, he quietly waited in line for tickets, and when they approached the woman serving them, he said politely,

"Bonsoir mademoiselle. Je voudrais deux billets pour la Channel Tunnel, s'il vous plait."

**(A/N: There will be an all-English translation of the below conversation in the Author's Note at the bottom. Also, for those of you fluent in French, I used a translator for some of it and so it may not make much sense to you. Sorry.)**

"Ah, oui. Une minute, monsieur."

Percy turned to Oliver, bemused, "Just where did you learn French?"

Oliver grinned brightly, "Muggle school. I'm a half-blood, remember, so I went to Muggle school before Hogwarts."

The woman's tentative voice came as a whisper, "Monsieurs? Êtes vous des magicians?"

Oliver frowned, leaning forward to whisper, "Oui, comment avez-vous su?"

"Vous avez dit 'Hogwarts'. Je suis allé à Beauxbatons! Ah…vous savez Harry Potter?"

Percy turned sharply to Oliver, "What is she saying? I heard the word 'Beauxbatons'."

Oliver smiled broadly back at Percy, "She's a witch! She wants to know if we know Harry!" Turning back to the woman, Oliver smiled once more,

"Oui, oui. Pourquoi?"

The woman gave a squeal of delight, "Est il vrai qu'il a tué Seigneur Voldemort?"

"Oui mademoiselle, c'est merveilleux," Oliver grinned brightly, but was not prepared when the woman pulled up the window separating them and kissed Percy and Oliver once each, full on the mouth. Oliver staggered slightly, and Percy flushed bright red to the roots of his equally red hair, and the woman smiled demurely, pink spots appearing on each of her cheeks before she exclaimed,

"Les billets sont gratuits! Bon voyage, monsieurs!"

Grinning like a goon, Oliver took the two tickets and headed for the platform the train would pull into, tugging Percy out of his daze and along with him, whistling cheerfully. Percy looked at Oliver, and said,

"Well. I suppose this whole escapade hasn't been _so_ bad."

The train soon came into the platform and the two men found themselves some seats, after realising the woman at the ticket booth had given them seats in First Class. They settled down into their chairs, and Oliver turned to Percy tiredly,

"Look. I'm gonna sleep, cause having to break your fall, get you to my car, send a Patronus message back to Headquarters and driving us here has kind of taken a lot out of me. If you want a coffee still, say to the person when they come…" Pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket, he wrote down the phrase in French and in phonics, "…this. _'Bonsoir, je voudrais une tasse de café'._ Its easy. And when they give it to you, say _merci_. Goodnight."

After Oliver had turned his head to the side, Percy looked at his friend with a combination of gratitude and concern. He guessed that he had had a long day; after all, the man had come from…well, he wasn't sure, but he believed it to be Spain. And he had probably travelled to France in that _awful_ Muggle car. There was a distinct possibility that he had been awake for as much as 36 hours, maybe more. Percy sighed, looking down at his lap, wondering whether Fred was watching him from somewhere above.

**He's probably thinking I'm a twat for jumping like that, actually.**

Percy laughed at this revelation, but quickly quietened when he remembered that the rest of his family would be of a similar belief, no doubt. After all, even George had not resorted to attempting suicide. Percy let a bittersweet smile settle on his face as he silently thanked Oliver for being there to stop him from dying. He shut his heavy eyelids and drifted off into sleep.

The stewardess on the train smiled, looking at the two fast asleep men, and moved on, knowing she would remember the sight for a while: one tanned, tall, muscled, brown-haired man, and one smaller, thin, pale and freckled red-headed man, wearing horn-rimmed glasses, the smaller man's head resting lightly on his companion's shoulder.

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**Author's Note: Aww. Hoped you liked that as much as I liked writing it. Here is the full English version of Oliver and the French Lady's conversation. Her name is Marielle La Rouge, in case anyone was wondering.**

_Oliver glared at the last request, but found himself yawning, and nodded drowsily, "Yeah…I guess I could do with a cuppa. Come on."_

_Oliver pushed open the car door and stepped out, waiting for Percy before shutting the door behind them and locking the car. He walked briskly towards the station, and upon entering, looked for the nearest ticket booth. When he found one, he quietly waited in line for tickets, and when they approached the woman serving them, he said politely,_

"_Good evening Miss. I would like two tickets for the Channel Tunnel, please."_

"_Ah, yes. One minute, sir."_

_Percy turned to Oliver, bemused, "Just where did you learn French?"_

_Oliver grinned brightly, "Muggle school. I'm a half-blood, remember, so I went to Muggle school before Hogwarts."_

_The woman's tentative voice came as a whisper, "Sirs? Are you wizards?"_

_Oliver frowned, leaning forward to whisper, "Yes, how did you know?"_

"_You said 'Hogwarts'. I went to Beauxbatons! Ah…do you know Harry Potter?"_

_Percy turned sharply to Oliver, "What is she saying? I heard the word 'Beauxbatons'."_

_Oliver smiled broadly back at Percy, "She's a witch! She wants to know if we know Harry!" Turning back to the woman, Oliver smiled once more,_

"_Yes, yes. Why?"_

_The woman gave a squeal of delight, "Is it true he killed Lord Voldemort?"_

"_Yes Miss, its marvellous," Oliver grinned brightly, but was not prepared when the woman pulled up the window separating them and kissed Percy and Oliver once each, full on the mouth. Oliver staggered slightly, and Percy flushed bright red to the roots of his equally red hair, and the woman smiled demurely, pink spots appearing on each of her cheeks before she exclaimed,_

"_The tickets are free of charge! Safe journey, sirs!"_

_Grinning like a goon, Oliver took the two tickets and headed for the platform the train would pull into, tugging Percy out of his daze and along with him, whistling cheerfully. Percy looked at Oliver, and said,_

"_Well. I suppose this whole escapade hasn't been so bad."_

(Continue as normal.)

**_Review!_**


	4. Cake

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Harry Potter, especially not Percy Weasley. They are JKR's. There may be spoilers from Deathly Hallows so don't read if you haven't read that. :) Slash pairing, eventually…probably. PercyOliver. There is some cussing later on in this chapter. Percy is very disapproving of swearing. Anyways, on with the show! Enjoy!**

"_Bonjour monsieurs et madames, c'est huit heures et demie en Angleterre, nous sommes à notre destination finale. Ayez un beau jour et merci pour l'usage du service de train de Channel Tunnel."_

Percy awoke to a metallic woman's voice floating out through the speakers in their carriage. He did not understand it, but he took it to mean that they were in England and that they could get off of the train.

"_Hello sirs and madams, it is eight thirty in England, we are at our final destination. Have a good day and thank you for using the Channel Tunnel train service"_

Oh. Well, he'd been mainly right. Percy frowned, realising he was leaning on something solid, but comfortable…Straightening up, he looked to his left and realised he had been leaning on the previously slumbering Oliver's shoulder. Blushing slightly, he realised that not only had he been asleep on his friend, but said friend had been watching him with an amused expression. Oliver smirked, saying,

"Why, hello Sleeping Beauty. Have a nice doze?"

Percy narrowed his eyes, "_Shush, you_. We can get off the train now, and I'm guessing you want to get me to my no-doubt furious mother a.s.a.p?"

"You're right about that. Well, come on. We need to find a place to Apparate."

The two men stumbled off the train, still partially asleep, and Percy was just about to stretch when Oliver yanked him into the nearest men's' toilets, "What?! Oliver, why are we going in here, I don't need to go—"

"Shut up! Just get into that stall there!"

Oliver forcefully shoved Percy into a stall, following him and locking the door, drawing a surprised exclamation from the smaller man, "Er, _Oliver_, I dunno what you intend to do, but—"

"_Shh!_ I'm not gonna do that, we're gonna Apparate. Now, take my hand."

Percy wiped his clammy hand on his jeans nervously, before placing it in Oliver's warm, dry one. Oliver mouthed a countdown down to one, then spun on his heel, and the two men disappeared with a loud crack.

Moments later, they appeared on the steps of number 12, Grimmauld Place. Letting go of Oliver's hand, Percy bit his lip, "Oh God…what is mum gonna say…?"

Oliver waved off his worries with one hand, knocking on the door, "Oh, shut up, she's probably going to have a bit of a go then ask you why the hell you did it. Can't say I'm not curious…"

The door swung open and a flustered Mrs Weasley looked out, saying loudly, "_PERCY?!_ Percy, is it you—Oh." Looking down, Mrs Weasley took in the exhausted looking Oliver, and her nervous looking son. Not quite sure what to do, she tugged them both in, shut the door, then took a deep breath, then…

"_PERCY WEASLEY, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?! DID YOU NOT THINK OF THE EFFECT YOU'D HAVE ON US IF YOU DID IT?! YOU ARE SO LUCKY THAT OLIVER WAS THERE, OTHERWISE I'D HAVE TO KILL YOU!"_

"Erm…Mrs Weasley, he'd already be—"

"_YES I KNOW, NO NEED TO BE A SMART ALECK_—oh my, I don't know why I'm yelling at you dear, you did save my boy after all," Mrs Weasley have a warm smile and patted Oliver's cheek fondly, before turning to Percy with a look like ice, "_You_. Go in there and explain to your family what exactly was going through your mind. They have all been worried sick about you, you owe them, _and me,_ an explanation." The warm, affectionate smile returned as Percy marched stiffly into the dining room, where he was met by yells from his other relatives.

Mrs Weasley looked up at Oliver proudly,

"Thank you so much for saving him dear. You're a true Weasley, just like dear Harry…would you like some tea and cake, dear? I just made a honey cake now, I think its still warm—"

"—Yes, thank you Mrs Weasley. That sounds great, thank you. I take one sugar in my tea," Oliver replied, cutting off Mrs Weasley's rambling, "But don't rush yourself, you must've been worried sick these past few days."

Mrs Weasley flushed slightly, "Oh no dear, we were all sure he'd be okay with you."

She walked briskly into the dining room, shooting a glare in Percy's general direction then setting about making tea in the adjoining kitchen. Oliver followed into the dining room, leaning in the doorway and waiting for the shouting to subside. However, he did not quite expect what happened next.

Percy stood up indignantly, shouting loudly with tears in his eyes, "_STOP IT!_ Stop acting like I'm a head case! I feel like its _MY FAULT _Fred's dead, and you're all too busy shouting at me for doing it to even think about my reasons for trying to do it! _JUST STOP IT!_"

Percy barged past Oliver, and Oliver looked to him as he passed, seeing the brief sparkle of a tear falling from his face. It landed on Oliver's hand, and he struggled to keep his expression from changing to one resembling distress. It hurt to see his best friend like that, so he walked into the dining room and took to Percy's seat, leaning on the table and saying quietly, dangerously, "Right then. I understand that you are upset and scared about Percy, but there was no need for that."

Arthur Weasley looked at the Quidditch player sharply, "I'm not sure if this is really your business, Oliver."

"With all due respect, Mr Weasley, this is bloody well my business seeing as I was the one who stopped him from making a nice stain on the French pavement!" Oliver's temper flared, his eyes glinted fiercely, but as soon as he had coughed, the trace of hot-headedness was gone, "Is it possible that I could tell you my opinion of this situation before I go upstairs and prevent your son from killing himself again?"

Mr Weasley sighed, shaking his head disbelievingly before he muttered, "Go on…"

Oliver nodded curtly at him, smiled briefly at Molly Weasley, who had set down a slice of cake and a cup of tea in front of him, and took a deep breath before beginning, "Well, the way I see it is that Percy has been in turmoil since he went and started kissing Ministry asses. Percy loves you guys, really and truly, but we all know he had wanted to get into the Ministry since he was a kid. I remember being stuck in a room with him at Hogwarts, all I'd hear was, 'Ministry _this_, Ministry _that_, I love the Ministry'…then again, with me it was the same, only about Quidditch…" He shook himself, stopping himself from going off on a tangent, and continued, "Now, let's all think. Percy got to a high position in the Ministry in a matter of months, and let it go to his head. You cannot honestly say that you wouldn't have done the same. At first, the Ministry was simply hiding things from the public, not run by someone under the Imperious Curse by You-Know-You, so he did not honestly realize a lot of the things he was told were lies."

George Weasley blinked slightly, looking at Oliver, "That doesn't explain why he tried to kill himself when Fred…" He choked, not able to finish the sentence. Oliver nodded in understanding. George had been used to being one of a duo…now he was left as one in a party of one, half of a soul. Oliver sighed,

"Yeah, I'm getting to that. Now, when the war started, officially, it was like Percy was stuck on one side, and was fighting against his own family. He'd hear some warped opinions of you all from within the Ministry, so had emancipated himself to a certain extent, but even so, you were still his family."

Mrs Weasley stifled a sob behind a lacy handkerchief, and Ginny Weasley was staring blankly down at the table. Bill was gripping Fleur's hand and looking at Oliver with respect in his eyes, and Charlie was blinking rapidly. Mr Weasley simply stared, open-mouthed.

"So when he managed to get to Hogwarts, to fight on our side, and ran into you guys, everything he'd done probably came rushing to his mind all at once. I'm only guessing, but I'm thinking you guys didn't welcome him back straight away. So then he comes out with the big apology, you all welcome him back, and the fighting begins. Percy Weasley gets his family back. You're all fighting someone, _somewhere_, and it just so happens Percy was fighting with Fred…" Oliver smiled weakly, taking a gulp of tea, before saying simply, "He was there when Fred…well, you know. He was joking with Fred at the time. He thinks he distracted Fred and by extension caused him to…you get me. Just think about how he must feel. Now, if you're all okay with it, I'm gonna go make sure Percy isn't doing something stupid. Wait…any questions?"

The Weasleys stared down at their laps, stunned. Mrs Weasley gestured for Oliver to go, and so he did, taking the plate with the cake on it with him. He paused briefly, seeing a pair of Extendable Ears discarded on the floor, as if dropped from where someone had been using them, and heard faint running footsteps. Oliver smiled. Harry was off seeing Teddy Lupin, Ron and Hermione were probably off distracted somewhere (he could guess _what_ they were doing, but did not want the vision in his head), and all of the other Weasleys were in the dining room, except one. Taking the stairs two at a time, Oliver, knocked at Percy's door, not waiting for a reply before entering.

Percy sat on the windowsill outside the open window, staring down at the ground. Obviously no one outside could see him in the hidden house, but he seemed to be measuring the distance of a fall from the window he was sitting at. Oliver sighed, simply, swinging himself out of the opened window to sit next to Percy. It was a squeeze, and difficult to achieve while he was holding a plate of cake, but he managed, before looking at Percy and saying simply,

"You do realize, that if you _dare_ do that again, I will just do a Cushioning Charm again and you will most likely be shipped off to the St. Mungo's mental ward?"

Percy sighed, closing his eyes, then opening them to stare out at the houses around them,

"Yeah. I know. I'm not gonna do it."

Oliver nodded firmly, before smiling, "Cake?" He made a swiping motion with his wand; the slice of cake separated into two smaller halves. Percy snorted, looking at Oliver oddly, "You are one strange man. But fine." He took one of the halves and bit into it,

"So um…what happened after I, ah, _left?_"

Oliver cocked an eyebrow, "Nothing much, but you dropped your Extendable Ears."

Percy flushed, "How are you so sure they were mine? They could've been anyone's, for all you know Crookshanks could have dragged them down—"

"—But he didn't, did he? All of the Weasleys, apart from you and Ron, were in the dining room, with me. Harry is visiting little Teddy Lupin, Hermione and Ron are…_occupied_…so that leaves you. I heard running footsteps, and seeing as you are the only person who could have been running at the time…" Oliver smiled softly, looking out at the sky. It was only just getting to 10 o'clock in the morning, and the skies were clear and blue, much like Percy's eyes, he thought, or Ron's, or any Weasley who happened to have blue eyes, and not brown ones. He glanced at Percy who was also looking out at the scenery, and saw the small fluffy clouds reflected on his horn-rimmed glasses. Percy stared back at him.

"What?" he inquired softly, having finished his cake and had dusted off crumbs that weren't there (Percy was even a neat eater, Oliver thought dryly). Taking off his glasses, he cleaned them with a cloth he drew out of his pocket, then replaced them, "No, seriously, what on earth are you staring at?"

It was not until that moment Oliver realized he had been staring at Percy's freckles.

A faint smile came to the Keeper's face as he commented absent-mindedly, "Oh, nothing, just your freckles."

A look of horror came to Percy's face, "What? _Why?_ Have I got more? Oh _God_, I hate them so much, they're so _hideous_ and they make me look as if I have dirt on my face, which I _never_ would. Wood, how is it that you spend all your time outdoors and I spend mine indoors and yet I am the one with _freckles?_ I wish I didn't have them…I don't suppose it would be possible to transfigure them off? Fred and George were always telling me fake spells to get rid of them, Fred always liked seeing my reaction when the spell turned me into a huge cucumber or something ridiculous like that --"

The rant was cut short when tears sprung to Percy's eyes upon thinking of Fred. Oliver paled, "Perce? You…okay?"

It was then he noticed Percy's hands pushing his body closer to the edge of the windowsill.

Hauling Percy back inside (Oliver noted he landed with a limp _thud_), and ducking back inside himself, he helped Percy up and held his wrists tightly, speaking to the smaller man who now had tears rolling down his cheeks, like glass, or melted snow…

"Percy. Its okay. I'm here."

Oliver braced himself as the redhead wrapped shaking arms around him and hugged him back warmly, patting his back soothingly as he choked out sentences that made no sense but at the same time expressed all the grief he held in for the sake of his family. Yes, Oliver could make out words, phrases, but it wasn't important. All that mattered was that he was here for his friend, his best friend in fact, when he was crying and clutching at the back of Oliver's sweater, and full of sorrow and guilt, thinking no one else was there. Oliver whispered words of sympathy and reassurance quietly into Percy's ear, all the while moving them so that they could sit on Percy's bed and Percy could lie in Oliver's arms until he calmed down.

After a few hours, Percy's sobs had subsided to dry hiccoughs, and Oliver smoothed the hair back from his friend's flushed and wet face, "There now. Do you feel better?" Percy nodded tiredly, before choking out, "Its just that I can't believe he's…_g-gone_." Oliver smiled understandingly, before saying, "My parents once had another baby. I had a little sister. Her name was Jessica. She was born prematurely, by about a month and a half, so she was put into intensive care. But she died after about 2 weeks…My mum was stuck in the hospital too, apparently they thought there might be complications with her after the birth like there was with me."

Percy gave a small gasp, before murmuring into Oliver's shoulder, "Christ, Oliver, I'm so sorry…" Oliver waved off the sympathy with a flick of his hand, "Oh, no. Don't. I was about 5 at the time. You see, my parents had me young; they were both 16. Childhood sweethearts who ended up sticking together. It was lucky me and my mum survived, because I was born prematurely too, but only by three weeks. And seeing as my mum was just barely 16, labour was hard on her. But anyways, that's not the point. I never truly knew my little sister, but I remember going to see her and my mum every day, and holding Jessica's tiny hand. It really hurt when she died, but more importantly, it hurt less after a while. Now it only hurts a little when I think about her. The point is, no one is ever _truly_ gone if you remember them, Perce. Fred did everything he wanted to do: he played Quidditch on Gryffindor's Quidditch team with his twin brother, they made a dramatic exit from school after only getting 3 O.W.L.S apiece, and he opened his own joke shop, which was better even than Zonko's, with his brother again. He had a good life, Percy, wouldn't you rather remember that?"

Oliver felt Percy nod into his shoulder, then found himself face to face with Percy, who had drawn back from Oliver's embrace. He scrubbed at his eyes with his fists like a tired child, then smiled softly, "Thank you, Wood."

"Percy, for God's sake, call me Oliver for once," Oliver said irritatedly, though with a small smile still on his face. Percy blushed, "Ah well, you know, old habits die hard, and all that…" He paused, looking at his position on Oliver and blushed an even deeper red, untangling himself, "Oops, sorry…got a bit out of it, y'know, and um—"

Oliver smirked, cutting him off, "—Shut up. We're best friends, I wouldn't think there was a hidden meaning to being practically in my lap with your arms around me…_oh wait_."

Percy thumped him on the arm playfully, "Stop that. Anyways, shall we go down and see my family? They might be wondering what exactly we were doing up here."

"Mmm, I suppose so. But anyways, how can you be sure they haven't been using Extendable Ears all this time?" Oliver smiled, getting up and heading to the door, before opening it and looking down, amazed, "Well, butter my bottom and call me toast. They _have_ been using Ears."

Percy's eyes widened in a comically shocked expression, before he shouted – actually, more like shrieked like a girl, Oliver thought, "Butter my bottom and call me toast?!", before proceeding to laugh hysterically, again, like a girl, Oliver could not help but think. Percy was a lot like a girl, come to think of it…Shaking his head, Oliver waited until the laughs had subsided, then said worriedly, "Wait…that means they've heard you um…sobbing and…basically everything. Um…how do we go about facing them?" Percy wiped his streaming eyes with a weak giggle, apparently in high spirits, "_Easy_, we bring them the Ears, and tell them they left them behind at my door." The redhead stooped next to Oliver to pick up the Ears by the flesh coloured string, and set off with the ear part dangling, and moving around the pick up sounds. Oliver shook his head with a chuckle, darting forward to pick up the ear, before falling into step with Percy, grinning devilishly before starting a conversation again.

_Grin._ "Oh, by the way…Percy?"

_Glance._ "Yes Wood—I mean, Oliver?"

_Smirk._ "Your freckles are cute. Like cinnamon sprinkles."

_Blush._ "Um, thank you Wood—I mean, Oliver! It was a bit random though, what brought it on?"

_Smile._ "Your cuteness."

_Flush._ "…Are you trying to wind me up?"

_Laugh._ "Yes, Percy."

The pair entered the dining room and placed the Ears on the dining table, amid a sea of blushes and shifty glances. "By the way, someone forgot these," Percy said dryly, with a small smile to his family. There was a sudden _thud_ and squeal of delight when Molly Weasley leapt out of her chair so quickly that her chair swung back and fell to the floor. She tackled her son in a fierce hug, "Oh, _Percy!_ Don't you ever worry us like that again! We're sorry for being so hard on you!"

Percy nodded, patting his mother awkwardly on the back, glasses askew, "Its okay, Mum, I've got Oliver watching over me now, he won't let anything happen." He grinned over his mother's shoulder at Oliver who flushed a Weasley-esque shade of red and ran a hand through his brown hair, "Ah, well, its nothing really, he's my best friend—_oof!_"

Molly Weasley had enveloped Oliver in a fiercer hug, "Oliver, dear, thank you so much for…well, _everything._" She drew back with a look in her eyes, and Oliver nodded dumbly, understanding that she also meant his long rant to them about Percy's mental state. He blushed, "No, really, it was nothing…it's the least I can do since you're all putting up with me staying here while they rebuild my flat…"

Percy frowned, "Sorry? _Rebuild_ your flat?" He had thought that all of the remaining Order members were staying at Grimmauld Place for celebrations and reports back from hunting down the remaining Death Eaters…then again, Mundungus Fletcher would have been here, he mused, waiting expectantly for a reply. Oliver nodded to himself, "Oh yeah, of course, I didn't tell you. After the battle ended, some Death Eaters who didn't quite make it to Hogwarts to fight – other wizards and witches must've held them off I suppose – took out their anger at You-Know-Who's defeat on a nearby Muggle block of apartments, which I happen to live in. Luckily the block only has four floors – two apartments on each floor – and a penthouse on top, and I'm on the left hand flat on the fourth floor, didn't get hit much, my wards were pretty strong. My landlady is a witch, so she knew about the wards, and she's re-building the damaged bits and strengthening the wards for me."

"_Oh._ Well. Right. Well. Okay…" Percy nodded fervently, then came to a realization, "But what about your broom? Surely it was in your house?" Oliver smacked a hand to his forehead in sudden thought, "_Oh yeah!_ Christ, thanks for reminding me, I've gotta go pick up some stuff! My broom didn't get hit thankfully, and I've gotta pick up that and some other stuff, speaking of which. Mrs Weasley, may I use the Floo?"

Mrs Weasley nodded, patting Oliver's cheek fondly, "Please call me Molly, dear. Of course you may…just don't get ash on the carpet when you come back. Percy, be a dear and go with him to help carry his things." Oliver began to protest, "Mrs – I mean, Molly, I'm sure I can handle it, I wouldn't want Percy to overstrain himself –" Percy laughed loudly, "Honestly Wood, don't be stupid, of course I'll help. After you."

Oliver frowned, pouted, then gave a small smile, nodding his acceptance of the matter before taking a small amount of white powder from the pot by the fireplace and throwing it in. Percy admired how nicely the emerald green flames lit his face, before shaking himself and listening to the address spoken.

"Number 9, Hemmingway Estate!"

Oliver shot off, and Percy soon mimicked him, stepping into the emerald flames after throwing his powder in and shouting the address once more.

"_Number 9, Hemmingway Estate!"_

**Author's Note: Bit of a longer chapter this time, to make up for the slow update. I've had some problems with my back, neck and shoulders, so I couldn't finish this chapter till it was better. What do you think? Tell me. Next up will be a short interlude with Hermione and Ron. Will be unrequited Hermione/Ron, because thinks are seldom what they seem. It was Hermione who kissed Ron, after all. ;) After that you'll see Oliver's flat. Hoorah! Anyways, tell me what you think, and keep reading! Thank you to you all if you review…I've had 689 hits, 1 fav., and 7 alerts and only 8 reviews, which I find slightly amusing really. Anyways. Bye for now:)**


	5. Interlude: The Trio

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Harry Potter, especially not Percy Weasley. They are JKR's. There may be spoilers from Deathly Hallows so don't read if you haven't read that. :) Slash pairing, eventually. PercyOliver. No cussing in this chapter. This chapter is an unrequited HermioneRon interlude, with implied RonHarry. And Hermione is trying to get Ron to...Well, you'll see. Just a warning.**  
–**giggles- Anyways, on with the show! Enjoy!**

Her mouth is hot against his, one cold hand creeping under his shirt, the other slowly making its way towards his belt buckle. He holds back an open laugh; she won't find _anything_ to work with there. He takes the hand that is now trying to undo his belt and keeps a firm grip on it. Hermione pulls back and sighs annoyedly,

"Okay, Ron. I am going to give you ten seconds to tell me what the hell is wrong with you today."

Ron can feel an amused smirk creeping to his face, but forces it back and says in mock surprise, "What? Nothing's wrong, 'Mione." Uck. That nickname he gave her, which only crept out because he was eating at the time, felt like acid in his throat. He had hoped this would distract him from other matters, but unfortunately it had only brought them to the front of his mind.

"How can you say nothing is wrong?! I have been at this with you for at least an hour now, and still—" she gestured at his blank expression and his crotch area, "—you're not doing anything! Do you not want to do this? You could just tell me…"

The rest of her rant about how unresponsive his manly parts were to her supposed feminine charms faded out as Ron decided he didn't care. He remembered their first kiss well; she had thrown herself at him in the Room of Requirement, right in front of Harry. He had responded enthusiastically, but for the wrong reasons. Many more kisses had followed, desperate, heated attempts at keeping his attention on her. Ron vaguely wondered whether, in her heart of hearts, she knew what was going through his mind. It would explain how desperate she was for his attention.

"Ron? Ron? _Are you even listening to me?!_ Oh, never mind, obviously you've got no interest in what I say _whatsoever_. Just forget we ever happened."

Ron watched her walk away, uttering an absent-minded, "Yeah, bye," belatedly realizing he had probably just made her more upset. He watched her walk away, tutting at himself when he noted her feminine curves and caramel curls. It was a waste of a beautiful girl, he thought, all the while reminiscing about black hair flying back from an alabaster face, and leaf green eyes behind glasses watering as a skinny yet utterly magnificent boy plummeted towards the earth on his broomstick.

He thought of Harry, so graceful and powerful that it stole breath from his lungs and made his words die on his lips, catching that elusive golden orb with fluttering wings that beat softly against the Seeker's callused hands. He could remember it well; for Harry had clenched the Snitch so tightly those scars on the back of his hand, spelling, 'I must not tell lies,' stood out against his pale skin.

Ron sighed, leaning his head back against the headboard of his bed, and then smiled, remembering moments he and Harry had stolen in dark corridors and broom cupboards, Ron's freckled hands clenching in those raven locks, all through fourth year until Harry had gotten with Ginny. Even then, they'd had occasions when they couldn't help themselves. No one suspected a damn thing.

Ron swore fluently under his breath, making a note to ask Harry to stop playing games with his mind.

Getting up and attempting to straighten his hair and clothes, before making sure he looked composed (or as composed as Ron Weasley could look), he made his way down to the dining room, where most of his family sat. Nodding to them, he asked his mother,

"Hey, um, Mum, did Harry say when he was going to be back?"

Molly Weasley sighed, putting down her knitting, "Oh, dear. Is this what made you upset Hermione?"

"Umm. No?"

This response drew a collective sigh from the assembled Weasleys (and Oliver), including Percy and even Ginny, who looked at Ron tiredly and said, "Look, Ron, everyone's figured it out. Its part of the reason why I don't intend to get back with Harry."

Ron fought down the infamous Weasley blush as he said nonchalantly, his voice an octave higher than usual,

"Um. Ah. I…don't know what you're, um, _on about_."

Arthur Weasley looked at his youngest son with a knowing look in his eyes, "Ron, with all due respect, you make your feelings very…obvious." Ron looked at his father resignedly, before sitting down with a sigh, "Apparently not to two people. Hermione and Harry himself don't know…"

"_Know what?_" Hermione had just entered the room with her hands on her hips. Again Ron couldn't help but admire how pretty she was, before he shook himself and said, "Erm…well…Could I speak to you privately?"

Hermione sighed agitatedly, and dragged him into the kitchen, shutting the door before saying in a low voice, "Now. Tell me what it is. Does it have anything to do with why you won't…you know?" Ron smiled softly, "It pretty much explains it." He sat down on the cold kitchen tiles and said, as Hermione joined him, "It involves me using you. I didn't mean it at the time, y'know, in the Room of Requirement…but I guess its what I've been doing, really, and I know that's horrible and everything but please don't judge me before I finish—"

A small, sad smile came to Hermione's lips as she interrupted Ron and simply asked, "Who is she?" Ron blanched, then flushed bright red, "Well…it isn't really a _she_…" Hermione gaped, and he pleaded, "Look, 'Mione, don't judge me before I explain. I've liked him since about third year, and I thought it was just hormones and that…then fourth year, we started messing around, y'know, and I thought he didn't feel the same…but even when he got a girlfriend we still did it. I thought he was being greedy so I broke it off, literally a few weeks before he broke it off with his girlfriend—"

"Ron," Hermione said, her voice ringing clear in the artificial silence, "Is it _Harry?_"

Ron looked at her disbelievingly for a second, then dumbly nodded and turned his red face away. Hermione saw the broad shoulders on her now ex-boyfriend shaking, heard a tiny mumble of something that could've been 'I'm so sorry', and numbly watched him fold his arms on his knees, put his head down, and cry in earnest, no doubt wishing Harry would feel the same, or he would feel the same for Hermione.

Hermione put her arms around the boy she had always thought so tall and strong, and cried for the love that could have been.

**Author's Note: So what did you think? Short-ish, I suppose, but I wanted to include Ron/Harry (which may or may not be reciprocated later on) in the story so I can have one of my favourite Hermione pairings later. This whole thing is basically exploring some relationships that could be built after the war, really, so there will be some other interludes with other pairings. However, the main focus is PercyOliver, so don't expect many interludes at once. :) Anyways, remember to review! Percy and Oliver are back in the next chapter.**


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